tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10028256214095742902018-03-19T07:27:27.606-04:00The Rogue NunLetitia Minnickhttps://plus.google.com/103311501588675936897noreply@blogger.comBlogger412125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1002825621409574290.post-65289391051412155262018-03-19T07:27:00.000-04:002018-03-19T07:27:27.663-04:00Mindfulness - Monday 3.19.18Most of us take for granted that time flies, meaning that it passes too quickly. But in the mindful state, time doesn't really pass at all. There is only a single instant of time that keeps renewing itself over and over with infinite variety. ~Deepak Chopra<br /><br />Letitia Minnickhttps://plus.google.com/103311501588675936897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1002825621409574290.post-594900116362411242018-03-13T06:39:00.000-04:002018-03-13T06:39:44.964-04:00Early Morning with JackA gentle coating of March snow glistens golden<br />in the light of a yellow street lamp<br />as curbside trash magically transforms<br />into winter topiary.Letitia Minnickhttps://plus.google.com/103311501588675936897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1002825621409574290.post-85276480664603490692018-03-11T19:24:00.000-04:002018-03-11T19:24:55.341-04:00Over Lunch<div><i>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;~for V.C.</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>Years dissolve in a cocoon&nbsp;</div><div>of comfortable conversation&nbsp;</div><div>weaving past into present</div><div>in a tapestry of light and shadow.</div><div>Memories,&nbsp;</div><div>new and old,</div><div>eagerly shared and celebrated&nbsp;</div><div>as figurative fingers wrap around the friendship knot</div><div>decades old and holding strong.</div><div>Eyes bright as jewels&nbsp;</div><div>blink back the leaking gratitude</div><div>as anticipation mounts</div><div>for the next chance to open the treasure chest.</div>Letitia Minnickhttps://plus.google.com/103311501588675936897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1002825621409574290.post-74999321226245090092018-03-05T07:02:00.000-05:002018-03-05T07:02:13.780-05:00Morning Exorcisingwords choked in jammed fingers<br />demand the cracking of white knuckles<br /><br />initial pain ebbs as letters flow<br />from fingertips to keys to the public domain<br />causing little demons to cower<br />from the light of the computer screenLetitia Minnickhttps://plus.google.com/103311501588675936897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1002825621409574290.post-22251078484277362362018-03-05T06:41:00.000-05:002018-03-05T06:41:24.975-05:00Spring Cleaning (albeit a might early)It amazes me still... how easy it is for me to set myself aside. I marvel at my ability to sit tucked in a corner with my arms around my knees waiting for the "responsible me" to look away from the demands of everyday living long enough to realize I need some attention.<br /><br />Is it patience... or depression?<br /><br />Is it being an accountable grownup... or simply avoiding how I really feel? All I can say definitively is that my poetry has suffered and that needs to end.<br /><br />I've changed the blog's theme to a clean green and removed a small bit of clutter. Taking a breath, I unwrap my arms from around my legs and stand up. I freely admit I'm a bit shaky but I have managed to take a step out from the corner... only time will tell if I'm able to walk to the center of the room.Letitia Minnickhttps://plus.google.com/103311501588675936897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1002825621409574290.post-68069490389794292302017-09-20T07:06:00.000-04:002017-09-20T07:06:28.777-04:00An Unexpected HomecomingLong hallways<br />now familiar<br />end in ascending elevators.<br /><br />Fear turns to trust<br />as friendly faces<br />recognize my own.<br /><br />Comforting conversation<br />wicks away worry<br />as I wait<br />&nbsp; &nbsp;again<br />for my heart to survive the operating room.<br /><br />[written for Rachael at HUP 8/23/17]<br /><div><br /></div>Letitia Minnickhttps://plus.google.com/103311501588675936897noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1002825621409574290.post-2145793520171209092017-09-20T07:04:00.001-04:002017-09-20T07:04:48.684-04:00Bearing WitnessTone<br />more than words mixed<br />with grunts and labored breathing is thrust<br />upon a teenage son too busy nursing bottled water<br />to help fold a mound of clothes.<br /><br />A father’s face<br />wet with effort turns puce<br />as the drink is drained<br />and the boy fishes for money to buy another bottle.<br /><br />[written 7/23/17]Letitia Minnickhttps://plus.google.com/103311501588675936897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1002825621409574290.post-25876693203557486422017-07-26T06:49:00.000-04:002017-07-26T06:49:13.605-04:00Bearing WitnessTone<br />more than words<br />mixed with grunts and labored breathing<br />is thrust upon a teenage son<br />too busy nursing bottled water to help fold a mound of clothes.<br /><br />A father's face wet with effort<br />turns puce<br />as the drink is drained<br />and the boy fishes for money to buy another bottle.<br /><br />[written 7/23/17]<br /><br /><br />Letitia Minnickhttps://plus.google.com/103311501588675936897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1002825621409574290.post-58644366857164731422017-07-26T06:42:00.000-04:002017-07-26T06:42:21.611-04:00Dissed By DryerThe machine did not want my change<br />so I changed machines<br />but this one won't spin...<br />Closing my eyes,<br />I breathe--<br />reminding myself<br />that I have survived much greater rejection.<br /><br />[written 7/9/17]<br /><br /><br />Letitia Minnickhttps://plus.google.com/103311501588675936897noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1002825621409574290.post-80511777494869173002017-07-26T06:38:00.000-04:002017-07-26T06:38:38.914-04:00Surviving the ButterflyShooting from the hip,<br />I have flown by the seat of my pants<br />for far too long.<br />Now, given a moment to ground,<br />I keep checking my feet<br />for quicksand.<br /><br />[written 7/9/17]<br /><br /><br />Letitia Minnickhttps://plus.google.com/103311501588675936897noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1002825621409574290.post-7673559611699249842017-07-26T06:34:00.000-04:002017-07-26T06:34:34.291-04:00TeleportingThe sound of tires on asphalt<br />with little effort<br />transforms into waves on the shore.<br />A motorcycle hum<br />metamorphosizes into an outboard motor<br />as imagination conjures the cry<br />of a laughing gull.<br /><br />For a few fleeting moments<br />an Allentown parking lot<br />captures Cape May.<br /><br />[written 7/9/17]<br /><br /><br />Letitia Minnickhttps://plus.google.com/103311501588675936897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1002825621409574290.post-36520427336287431612017-07-26T06:27:00.000-04:002017-07-26T06:27:30.684-04:00An Einstein MomentEyes closed<br />sitting in sunshine,<br />I find inspiration as priorities shift like paradigms,<br />finally full realizing<br />everything is relative.<br /><br />[written 5/28/17]<br /><br /><br />Letitia Minnickhttps://plus.google.com/103311501588675936897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1002825621409574290.post-7431685467979956752017-07-26T06:20:00.000-04:002017-07-26T06:20:26.427-04:00Cycling WashTwo weeks and a day ago<br />the call came<br />as I sat in this laundrymat<br />watching clothes spin.<br /><br />Sixteen days of wheels turning on the PA turnpike,<br />of doctors and nurses<br />and pharmacists and therapists;<br />of terror<br />and relief<br />and exhaustion.<br /><br />Knowing he is at home<br />resting with a new liver,<br />I sit here again<br />watching clothes spin<br />and praying my phone doesn't ring.<br /><br />[written 5/21/17]<br /><br /><br />Letitia Minnickhttps://plus.google.com/103311501588675936897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1002825621409574290.post-16152215423680418472017-07-26T06:08:00.000-04:002017-07-26T06:08:32.310-04:00While WaitingThe woman sitting next to me is texting<br />and it sounds like an energy chime.<br />With each notification<br />my mind turns toward an inner temple<br />and a yearning for peace.<br /><br />Startled by a touch on my arm,<br />I jump as she smiles and shows me the message:<br />"Stupid people should just shut up."<br /><br />The temple shatters<br />and I think...<br />maybe they shouldn't text either...<br /><br /><br />[written 6/27/17]<br /><br /><br />Letitia Minnickhttps://plus.google.com/103311501588675936897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1002825621409574290.post-85698165255449580102017-07-26T06:02:00.000-04:002017-07-26T06:02:33.608-04:00Yet Another Panic Attack...Fiendishly<br />Erroneous<br />Apprehension<br />Returns<br /><br /><br />[poetry form: acrostic - written 6/19/17]<br /><br /><br />Letitia Minnickhttps://plus.google.com/103311501588675936897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1002825621409574290.post-83800832701597634342017-07-26T05:55:00.001-04:002017-07-26T05:55:57.661-04:00HUPTen<br />days<br />sitting<br />in one room...<br />Grateful for the care<br />but wanting for some sun and air.<br />With sunlit leaves, the tree outside beconds an escape<br />pleading with me to lite my mind<br />upon its branches--<br />to breathe in,<br />let go,<br />be<br />home.<br /><br />[poetry form: Fibonacci - written at the Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania 5/16/17]<br /><br /><br />Letitia Minnickhttps://plus.google.com/103311501588675936897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1002825621409574290.post-49869630836631377392017-07-26T05:40:00.000-04:002017-07-26T05:40:00.664-04:00Reusmea culpa<br />&nbsp; &nbsp;There is dust on the journal.<br />mea culpa<br />&nbsp; &nbsp;The ink has congealed.<br />mea culpa<br />&nbsp; &nbsp;Promises made from the self to the Self<br />&nbsp; &nbsp;not yet broken<br />&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; but strained<br />&nbsp; &nbsp;and I fail to wrench the flail from my hand...<br /><br />mea culpa<br />mea culpa<br />mea maxima culpa<br /><br />[written 4/4/17]<br /><br /><br />Letitia Minnickhttps://plus.google.com/103311501588675936897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1002825621409574290.post-7732872594229606672017-07-26T05:34:00.001-04:002017-07-26T05:34:38.799-04:00BlackIt's paralyzing--<br />this gravity that presses<br />three dimensions into two.<br />Unable to breathe.<br />Unable to think--<br />&nbsp; but to feel<br />every pore, every nerve<br />overstimulated<br />&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;and howling.<br /><br />[written 3/29/17]<br /><br /><br />Letitia Minnickhttps://plus.google.com/103311501588675936897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1002825621409574290.post-79849627432996464782017-07-26T05:30:00.000-04:002017-07-26T05:30:54.508-04:00"Free Time"Sometimes I wonder<br />if I'm being prepared to come home to a quiet house--<br />to cook for one.<br /><br />While he sleeps away<br />his pain<br />and the life he feels he no longer has,<br />I sit pretending<br />to enjoy some time alone.<br /><br />[written 3/29/17]<br /><br /><br />Letitia Minnickhttps://plus.google.com/103311501588675936897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1002825621409574290.post-36067909841670470452017-06-24T21:17:00.000-04:002017-06-24T21:17:44.266-04:00Some (rather big) News...On May 7, 2017 my significant other of over 18 years received a life saving liver transplant by the grace of all that is divine and the unmeasureable generosity and kindness of a brilliant soul who has now passed from this life. Greg and I are both beyond grateful and cannot adequately express our thanks to Greg's donor, to his donor's family and friends, to the entire staff at the Hospital at the University of Pennsylvania, to all of his doctors and staff here in the Lehigh Valley (especially interventional radiology), and to all the family, friends, and complete strangers who have sent positivity and prayers for Greg and for me over these very difficult seven years. Please keep the light shining... I can attest that miracles happen regardless of what you believe or don't believe spiritually. Quite simply, during the eleven days I spent with Greg at HUP as he received and subsequently recovered from transplant surgery things happened that were too serendipitous, too strange in some ways, to simply dismiss as anything but inspired. Thank you.<br /><br />Greg is recovering well and, although recovery isn't easy and there is still a long road ahead, he remains positive and grateful and steadfast in his&nbsp;assertion to make the most of this second chance at life.<br /><br />As for me... as Greg's main caregiver, this life changing experience has been exhausing physically, intellectually, emotionally and spiritually. Without my own personal take on faith, I would not have managed to endure this far. In truth, I still struggle to keep my feet under me. My nerves are more than a little frayed and I am in serious need to smell the ocean air and feel the seaside sun on my skin (something I intend to make happen very soon). I have continued to write poetry throughout this "ordeal" and will be posting most of the poems as I make the time to do so. Some posts may seem a little dark but I hope by posting the truth of what I feel in any given situation will shed some light on what this existance looks like from behind my eyes and may resonate with others who are in the midst of their own&nbsp;afflictions. It is my path to help others. It is my mission to heal through poetry... myself... and my world.<br /><br />Again, thank you.<br /><br />With gratitude, love, and a hope for peace,<br />LettieLetitia Minnickhttps://plus.google.com/103311501588675936897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1002825621409574290.post-43709511132756221332017-03-28T06:37:00.000-04:002017-03-28T06:37:19.465-04:00Third-eye NystagmusStress, like dirt on a lens,<br />has my auto focus out of whack.<br />Gears grind back and forth<br />as thoughts flitter from work<br />to the grocery list to work<br />to wondering if I should get more coffee<br />to work to a new craft project<br />to work to remembering the car needs an oil change<br />to work to scheduling another doctor appointment<br />to work...<br /><br />I sit spinning still<br />listening to the clicks and whirls<br />waiting for reality's ever-ready battery to run down.<br /><br />Letitia Minnickhttps://plus.google.com/103311501588675936897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1002825621409574290.post-79236717628195194272017-03-28T06:33:00.002-04:002017-03-28T06:33:56.306-04:00Phthalo Fantasy [Haiku]A little blue pig<br />frolicking among flowers--<br />an imagined joy.<br /><br />Letitia Minnickhttps://plus.google.com/103311501588675936897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1002825621409574290.post-76382586082229920622017-03-21T07:26:00.000-04:002017-03-21T07:26:23.249-04:00Turning to StrawHaving passed the point of productiveness,<br />the little cog can no longer offer herself as grain<br />but chaff--<br />a reed floating to entice the grasp of a drowning man.<br /><br /><br /><i><span style="color: blue; font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Yeah, a little esoteric. Look up the origin of "grasping at straws" if you want to better understand the inspiration behind this one.</span></i><br /><br />Letitia Minnickhttps://plus.google.com/103311501588675936897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1002825621409574290.post-44370741716277324032017-03-19T07:50:00.000-04:002017-03-19T07:50:06.652-04:00Waiting on the DogStanding in the morning cold<br />more than half asleep,<br />I’m startled by the screams of a cross-eyed crow<br />demanding that I write<br />and not crawl back to nightmares.<br /><br />Letitia Minnickhttps://plus.google.com/103311501588675936897noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1002825621409574290.post-33709205459240394372017-03-19T07:49:00.000-04:002017-03-19T07:49:07.902-04:00Anticipation of SummerThe diamond sleeps beneath<br />a blanket of unmarred snow<br />as empty bleachers bask in the late winter sun<br />longing for cheers<br />and the crack of a bat.<br /><br />Letitia Minnickhttps://plus.google.com/103311501588675936897noreply@blogger.com0